Scarecrows don’t frighten me nor do their empty threads.
When I accidentally Fed-exed myself, I was very much a freight of the consequences.
I’m afraid of winter. I don’t indoors going outside.
Baby Boomers hate denim, because they’re afraid of a jean.
If I tell you I’m afraid of apple orchards, will you tell me to grow a pear?
I fear both men and women. I’m a hermafraidite.
I’m afraid of pie charts. I have agraphobia.
Frightened bovines act cow herdly.
When someone told me there had been a mixup and all my sausage was buried underground, I immediately exhumed the wurst.